


Moonlight

by amorassofpixelz



Category: FinnPoe - Fandom, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Stormpilot - Fandom
Genre: Body descriptions, Cuddling, Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorassofpixelz/pseuds/amorassofpixelz
Summary: Moments like these come few and far between.





	

It's late.

Moonlight pours in through the small, cracked window above them, its cool glow bouncing off their bodies and onto the walls.

Outside, nothing but the quiet sound of leaves giving way to the wind can be heard.

These trees fill the first man's mind; he can't hear them now, but his mind knows the sound like few other things.

On nights like these, Yavin 4 was cloaked in still beauty. Nothing but the wind to make noise; nothing but the boy's thoughts to keep him awake. He recalls his ritual, staying out until the calm voice of his mother called him back to bed. She would never upset; the man knows that she appreciated the peace as much as he did.

The man blinks, his gaze falling down to the door opposite them. On the keypad pulses a small red light, too weak to cover anything but the top row of keys in its warm glow. The 7 and 8 keys are worn down, 1 and 2 faring only slightly better. He sighs, remembering the second man's assuring words.

_We need a sequence neither of us will forget._

He was right.

/

The second man takes a deep breath, head resting on the chest beneath him. The rise and fall is a comfort, increasingly familiar as time goes on. The pattern is familiar as well; the first man exhales slightly longer than he inhales. Matching their breath is somehow deeply satisfying.

He can't quite discern why, but it seems to reinforce their connection.

Touch is a form of trust, after all.

His hand makes its way from his side to the belly below him. As much as breath does for him, touch does for the other man.

His fingertips running through the curls down the man's torso; it slows the first man's breath, and in turn, his own.

A familiar circle.

He can feel the man's throat vibrate as a sound of reassurance comes his way, low and sweet.

This is the most basic form of communication. No forethought, only action. Touch. Reaction. Cause and effect, mutually beneficial. No worries or pretense. No judgment.

With all this stripped away, what's left is raw emotion. Two bodies, connected by something intangible but nonetheless impactful. Deeper than touch alone, but amplified by it.

Fueled by the knowledge that regardless of everything else, there is always something to come back to. Something warm and familiar and unconditional.

/

The first man's eyes fall lower still, focusing on the long, dark mark on the back of the other man. A few spots catch the light, and the hard, pink flesh almost seems to glow.

He can feel his spine tingle in remorse.

Before, his mind would convince itself that not being there was as bad as inflicting the scar with his own hands.

Now? He sees it as a reminder. For both of them.

A reminder of what has come before, and what has yet to occur.

Moments like these are consistently few, yet seem further apart as the war drags on.

He blinks, furrowing his brow.

_Now isn't the time for war._

_Now is a time for us._

/

The second man can feel the breath below him hitch.

He lifts his head slightly, lips pressing onto firm skin.

That familiar sound comes again, and he takes his time before resting his head back down.

His eyes catch the moonlight cascading over the body in front of him. It penetrates through layers of skin and gives a reddish glow in some parts, but simply bounces off of others. It's a patchwork of shades, all of them lighter than those of his own.

Still, darker than some others he knows.

It's beautiful.

His hand catches light differently, almost blueish by the moon's brightest. He slides his hand up and onto the shoulder above him, closing his eyes and cocking his head to rest more comfortably.

As he sees it, this is one of many forms of pleasure they share. There are more physical ones, sure; but none this peaceful. None this reassuring, this warm.

Resting like this, sleep comes easy.

Alone in the same bed? No so much.

His mind wanders easily, and such blissful contact is one of only a few remedies.

/

The first man's hand meets the one on his shoulder, cupping it gently.

He doesn't let his mind focus on tomorrow.

Tomorrow can wait.

For now, they share this time.

Even while asleep, their bodies are aware of this bond.

By morning, his arms will have found their way around the other man.

Instinctively.

Lovingly.

Like they always do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I've written so much smut that I think I've been kinda burnt out lately, Wanted to do something really short and sweet, just about how much these guys love each other. Might expand on it in the future, but right now I think it stands alone just fine.
> 
> I love any sort of feedback!


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